


Knot in Love

by TheNewBrunette



Category: Glee
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Girl Penis, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 02:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8692300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNewBrunette/pseuds/TheNewBrunette
Summary: Santana shows up back at McKinley at the worst possible time for Sam: right when he's convinced that Brittany is about to go into heat.





	

Sam wraps his arm tight around Brittany's shoulder as he walks her from English to lunch. "How are you feeling, babe?" 

"Fine," she says. "Same as before English. Why do you keep asking me that?"

He keeps asking her because he's pretty sure she's going to start her first heat soon. He senses it whenever he's around her lately: he's on edge, and it feels like a thousand degrees in any room they're in together. He's not picking up a scent yet, but they say that's like the last sign. That's when the heat is actually starting. It's a little weird that _Brittany_ doesn't seem to feel anything yet, but nonetheless Sam is sure. It's why he's pretty much not leaving her side any time he doesn't absolutely have to: he _so_ wants to be the one to fill her with his babies. 

He shouldn't worry so much, probably. Brittany always says that people end up with the mate they're supposed to have. If that's true, it'll be him. It's only right. It looked forever like Santana would be the one, but then she went away to Louisville, and now Sam is the one dating Brittany. And fucking her, even though for now it's just for fun. If Santana didn't want that to happen, she shouldn't have gone away.

Sam leads Brittany to a two-person table in the cafeteria, which doesn't stop Artie from rolling over to join them, or Jake and Ryder from pulling chairs over. It's like _everyone_ can tell...except Brittany herself. Even Blaine stops by and lingers for a few minutes, chatting with them about nothing. At least Sam doesn't have to _really_ worry about Blaine—he mated with Kurt over the summer, so he's still bonded strongly enough to not take more than a passing interest in anyone else's heat. The other guys, though...

They obviously know he's going to do everything he can to keep them away from Brittany when the time comes. They're watching him as closely as they're watching her—more closely, in fact. Even when she gets up to get some more chocolate milk, they all stay huddled around him at the table. 

He gets a text while Brittany's in the milk line: "Meet me in the auditorium NOW. Snixx."

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! How could she know? How could she have sensed it from 224 miles away? (That's right, Sam googled the exact distance between Lima and Louisville.)

His first instinct is to ignore the text and whisk Brittany away, to her house, or to his. But anywhere he could think to take her, Santana knows about. It's better for him to confront her alone. He can't leave Brittany alone with all these unbonded guys, though, so he stands up and yells for Blaine and gestures him back over.

"Hey, Sam," Blaine says, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. Even _Blaine's_ hand feels burning hot, that's how worked up Sam is by Brittany's impending state.

The other guys glare at the two of them, like they already know what Sam is going to ask Blaine. They probably do know, in fact, but still Sam leans in to whisper it. "I have to go meet someone. Can you stay with Brittany? Keep her away from these jokers and any other unbonded guys?"

"Why?" Blaine asks.

"Why!?" Sam repeats, forgetting to whisper. But he remembers in time to whisper, "Because Brittany's heat is going to start soon. Probably not for a couple days because she doesn't even feel anything yet, but you never know. You of all people should know why all the guys are acting this way around her, you're the only one here who's actually mated already!"

Blaine frowns at him. "I'm pretty sure Brittany would be the first to feel something. Kurt felt it before I knew."

"Well, everyone says it's different for guys who are carriers."

"Actually, guys who are carriers are _less_ likely to know what's going on with them, because sometimes it's unexpected."

"Okay, thanks for the biology lesson, Blaine, but can you help me or what?" He stands up and gets ready to rush out of the cafeteria—alone to see Santana if Blaine says yes, or with Brittany to hide from Santana if Blaine says no.

Blaine raises his hands placatingly. "Sure. I'll walk Brittany to her next class. But call me later, okay? We should talk."

Santana waits on the darkened stage in the auditorium. It's not like she's actually worried. Brittany herself always said that if they're meant to be mates—which obviously they are—it will work out. But when she heard Sam is dating her girl now...well, she just needs to tell him how it is. If Sam knows what's good for him he'll drop everything and meet her here. Of course, she's not counting on Sam knowing what's good for him

But he does show up, and she crosses her arms and congratulates him: "And I didn't even have to lay out a line of cereal for you to find me."

Sam strikes a casual pose—cocky, even—with his hands in his pockets. He reminds himself that Santana is the one who left Brittany. "I thought you loved Brittany. I mean, I can't believe you're making what's going on with me and her about you." 

"I honestly can't tell if you're really such an idiot that you think there's any way it's _not_ about me. _Everyone_ knows that Brittany is mine."

"She's not anybody's yet."

"So it's not official yet, big deal," Santana scoffs. "That doesn't change the fact that _everyone_ knows that as soon as her first heat comes, I'm going to know it, no matter if I'm in Louisville or London or...or Lagos." At Sam's blank look she says, "It's in Africa, moron."

"Why would you be in Africa?"

"The point is I will _know_ when it's about to happen, and I will be here in time. Brittany is _mine_ , and you two can play around for now if you want, but if you think there's any chance she's going to have _your_ baby?" Santana laughs out loud. "You are in for a major disappointment, my friend." 

So...wait. It sounds like maybe Santana doesn't actually know. Like maybe she's just here preemptively.

Sam should let her go. He should thank her for delivering her message, maybe even claim he'll take her advice into consideration...anything to get her to leave before she ends up in the same room with Brittany somehow. But he just...he's just so irritated with her right now. "If you actually loved her you would have stayed," he says.

Santana's eyes narrow and she stalks toward him. " _What_ did you just say to me?"

"You heard me. You don't love her. And I know for a fact that she doesn't love you."

"You shut that trouty mouth before I shut it for you."

"Yeah? How are you gonna do that, exactly?"

"I'm gonna shove my dick in there, that's how."

She's so close now, and Sam feels so _hot_ and now all he can think about is Santana's dick in his mouth, which is the _last_ thing he wants to think about, except...it's kind of not. "That doesn't even make any sense: How is my mouth gonna shut with your dick inside it?"

"Why don't we find out?" Santana says, and she shoves him, and his shoulder where her hand touched him is on fire. But, like, in a good way.

Santana pulls her hand back as if she'd just been shocked. She _was_ shocked... _is_ shocked. Touching Sam wasn't supposed to feel good. She senses something in the air and takes a deep breath. No. _No_. Sam can't be...There has to be someone else in the auditorium with them. "Who's there?" she calls out.

"Wh-...what's going on?" Sam asks, voice shaking. And it's not just his voice. His whole body, he realizes, is suddenly trembling.

"Let me smell you," Santana snaps at him.

Sam peels off his t-shirt and lifts his arms. He knows he shouldn't be taking orders from Santana, but there's something in her tone that makes him just want to obey. Something in her tone and...and something else about her, suddenly, that he doesn't understand.

Santana sniffs at Sam—his chest, his neck, under his arms. He's covered in a scent that...she's never smelled it before, but she knows exactly what it is. 

Sam is going into heat. 

God _fucking_ damn it. Santana's dick is rock hard and she's never wanted anyone more. Not even Brittany, who she loves. Who she wanted— _still wants_ —to mate with. But Brittany is secondary in Santana's mind right now, because Brittany doesn't smell this good, Brittany isn't receptive to her _right now_ , and Sam—fucking _Sam_ , goddamn it—is.

"S-...Santana?" The way Santana's looking at him now has Sam terrified. And yet, for some reason he can't even think about walking away, much less fighting back. He doesn't _want_ to walk away. Much less fight back.

"Why didn't you tell me you're a carrier?"

"I'm not! I have a dick." 

"So what? Even Hummel has a dick. Did you sleep through health class?"

"But I would know. Right?" Why does he sound unconvincing even to himself?

"You're burning up, you didn't know that? And you smell like...no, I guess you _wouldn't_ know that, since _carriers can't detect the heat scent_. But tell me how this feels." She stands flush against him and licks, very slowly, from his collar bone up to just under his ear. It's by far the most intensely sexual sensation he's ever felt, and he just barely manages to not start humping Santana's leg. He doesn't manage not to whimper. "That's what I thought," Santana says.

"But...that's just because...I mean, I know you have a dick, but you're still a girl. I get turned on by all girls."

"Uh-huh. And when I reach inside your pants, what do you think I'm going to find?"

"That I'm hard for you," Sam admits. "But you're hard for me too." He can feel how hard she is.

"I know you're hard for me. But I'm talking about the other side of your pants."

"Oh!" Sam really _wasn't_ paying that much attention when they talked about this in health class, because the teacher managed to make sex sound totally unsexy, and besides he knew he'd figure out what to do when the situation arose. But he does remember, now that Santana mentions it, that the wetness that girls get, guy carriers get too, in their assholes, when they're in heat. He sucks in a deep breath because he knows Santana is actually going to poke around in there. And if she discovers that he does have that wetness—which he actually thinks now she probably will—she is going to fuck him there. And it's not something he ever, ever wanted before. But now—contradicting everything he ever thought he knew about himself—he kind of really, really does.

He stands still while Santana unbuckles his belt, unbuttons and unzips his jeans. "Spread your legs," she tells him, and he does it. His arms are still raised because she hasn't told him to lower them yet. As soon as Sam realizes how much he's under her power right now, he knows without a doubt what she's going to feel when she slides her fingers in between his cheeks.

Santana stands behind him. He tasted so good when she licked his neck that she can't help but lick his back now too. She feels how hard his heart is beating, how hot and sweaty his skin is. She drags her nails down his back and he whines. Pushing his pants and underwear down just far enough, she moves her hands onto his ass. 

"Oh god," Sam mutters to himself. Santana licking and scratching his back was amazing, but her touching his ass is everything. 

"Oh, _god_ ," Santana exclaims. "You're so fucking wet and slippery for me." She expected it, but it still kind of blows her mind.

"You're going to fuck me," Sam says. It's not a question.

"I want you all the way out of those clothes."

"Here?" Sam asks. "What if someone sees us?" Even as he's asking, he's trying to pull his jeans off over his sneakers.

"Let them. They're all going to know you're my bitch anyway as soon as you swell up with my baby."

Sam kicks his shoes off and steps out of his underwear. Standing on the stage in just his socks, he says, "You're going to knot inside my ass. It's going to hurt." Again, it's not a question.

Santana was prepared to be comforting and reassuring the first time she knotted in Brittany. But Sam is not Brittany, and anyway, he's right: it's going to to hurt. "Get on your knees."

Sam drops to his knees and looks up at her. "Santana, please..." he begs. But he doesn't know what he's actually begging for. He doesn't think he really wants her to not fuck him. Even if he did, he knows she's going to anyway.

It ends up not mattering, because Santana doesn't ask him to finish his plea; she doesn't acknowledge that he said anything at all. She slides her panties down and steps out of them gracefully, not even getting them caught on her heels. Slowly she hikes her skirt up onto her hips, revealing the biggest cock Sam has ever seen. The sight of it causes a gurgling noise to escape from deep within his throat.

"Suck it," she tells him as she pulls his head roughly forward.

Sam's pretty sure she's doing it strictly to humiliate him. And it _is_ humiliating, how he can't bring himself to resist even a little. He opens his mouth wide and tries to swallow Santana's cock whole, and he knows how he would look to anyone who might happen to walk in, how he must look to Santana herself, who's going to hold this over him for the rest of her life. But, god help him, he _loves_ the taste of her cock—not just the taste but the weight and the heat. And as much as he genuinely loves having it in his mouth, he becomes increasingly aware of wanting it even more in his ass. His ass actually aches now with emptiness, aches to be filled by Santana, by her dick and her knot and her cum. He peers up at her, tears in his eyes from choking on her cock, and reluctantly lets it out of his mouth long enough to ask her again, "Santana, please."

Santana knows just what he's asking for. It's what she wants too, but she's unbelievably pleased that _Sam_ has to ask for it. She spins Sam away from her and pushes him forward; he catches himself with his hands, but she wouldn't have actually cared if he had gone down face first. All she cares about is that his ass is right there, out in the open, exposed and available to her. She lowers herself to the floor and kneels behind him; without being told he spreads his legs wider to accommodate her.

Sam feels something slip inside his ass. It's small, though, just a finger probably...okay, maybe two fingers, but still nowhere near enough to satisfy his urgent need to be filled. "Santana, _please_."

"Fine." Santana was only trying to be considerate. If it's just going to make Sam whine at her, she won't. Without any further preparation, she presses the tip of her dick up against his hole and pushes in.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck..." It's barely in and it already hurts. And yet, despite the pain, it's deeply, deeply satisfying.

Sam is unbelievably tight, which is no surprise since he's probably a virgin (for _taking_ cock anyway) and she didn't really stretch him much pre-penetration. But having her dick inside him feels _way_ better than his tightness alone could account for. His scent is driving her insane, for one thing. Plus, just look at him: on his knees, submitting to her completely, even though he doesn't want to. "Does it hurt?" she asks, plowing forward.

"Don't stop!" Sam gasps.

Yeah, she really wasn't even considering stopping, even though she hasn't knotted yet and it's not technically too late. She pushes in steadily—and it's not like she's _trying_ to be rough with him, but she doesn't have a ton of self-control at the moment, and anyway it's not like Sam is complaining—until her balls are pressed up against his ass. And then she pushes in just a little more. Santana's never fucked someone who's in heat before, so she's never knotted, but from what everyone says there are only a few minutes when you can actively thrust before the knot gets too big. Santana is determined to make the most of those few minutes, and she pulls out and slams back in.

It doesn't hurt for long, which is good because Santana is nailing him ruthlessly now. It's exactly what Sam needs. Soon he feels Santana's cock grow even bigger inside him, and _that_ is what he _really_ needs. Even when she's not really moving anymore, her dick keeps ballooning inside him, putting so much pressure right where he needs it—where he never expected to need it, but where he does need a giant, engorged cock more than anything.

Sam hasn't even touched his own dick, his dick that will never swell and fill someone like this—he hasn't even given a thought to it, really, until he realizes he's about to come. His dick spurts out translucent cum just like when he fucks Brittany or jerks off, but in every other way this orgasm is different from any he's ever had. It rips through him, consuming his whole body. It makes him thrash and scream. It goes on and on, wave after wave crashing through him.

Santana can't believe she's not coming yet. She's more turned on than she's ever been in her life, and with the way Sam is squeezing and jerking her cock around...well, again, it's like nothing she's ever experienced before, but it definitely would have made her come instantly if she had. And she needs to come so bad, but her dick just keeps swelling and swelling. For lack of a better outlet, she drapes herself across Sam's back and bites down hard on his shoulder.

Sam barely notices the bite. It registers in his brain vaguely as an additional piece of evidence that he belongs to Santana now, but a trivial piece compared to how she's made him fall apart by owning his ass. And then he feels that first blast of her cum inside him, and he knows that what she's doing to him, it's not just for now, it's forever.

"Fuck! Oh god, Sam, you're so..." Santana can't even articulate how she feels about Sam right now. She's finally starting to come, and it's by far the most intense orgasm she's ever had, and it's not stopping. And she knows that because she's knotted it's going to stay just like this for a long, long time, and it's so intense and so...so _beautiful_ , really, and even _Sam_ is beautiful, and she's actually struck with the sudden feeling that she loves him, she really loves him. He's going to have her baby, after all, and it's just...it's the most beautiful thing ever. Nothing that feels _this_ fucking good could be anything but beautiful. And she realizes she's biting him still, and she starts covering his back with wet kisses instead.

Sam can barely breathe. His ass hurts so bad. Santana's cock is still huge inside him, and every time more cum shoots out it pummels him internally. How did he manage to come during this? It hurt then too, but he didn't notice it that much. Now he's hypersensitive to it, and to the pain where she bit him—where he's pretty sure he's bleeding, in fact. And he feels a sudden pang of humiliation at how he just let Santana do this to him—how he practically begged her to, in fact. 

And as if it weren't bad enough for him to have to deal with his humiliation privately, the stage door opens and Ryder and Jake walk in and stop in their tracks and just stare.

Why is Sam whining? Santana sees his head is lifted, and she looks where he's looking and sees them: Puck's little brother and Puck's little brother's little friend. She holds herself as tall as she can while on her knees and bares her teeth at them both. The intruders take a couple steps back, but not fast enough. "Get the fuck out," she growls at them. "Sam is _mine_." 

"Sorry," Puck's brother says, and he grabs his friend by the arm, and they leave.

"There," Santana says. "They won't bother us anymore."

"Oh god!" Sam says, voice quivering. "Stop! You have to stop!"

"What? Baby, they're gone."

"I don't want you to! Stop!" Sam tries to crawl away.

"Baby, I can't stop. You know that, don't you?"

"No, but I changed my mind!" Sam tries to move away, but he can't: Santana's dick is wedged inside him way too tight. Panicked, he tries jerking and twisting, anything to get her out of him. It hurts, a stabbing pain a thousand times worse than it already was. He knows it's probably from what he's doing, but he just wants her out of him.

"Baby, you're just going to hurt us both!" Santana forces Sam flat on his belly and manages to grab his wrists and hold them behind his back. 

Sam, completely immobilized, does the only thing he can do—besides continue to take Santana's cock, that is. He breaks into tears and weeps into the wooden stage floor.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Santana lets go of his wrists and stretches out along his back. She's still unloading in his ass, and it still feels amazing, but his crying is breaking her heart. Stroking his hair, she says, "It probably hurts, huh? I'm sorry, baby."

"It's not that," Sam chokes out between sobs. "It does, but that's not..." He's overtaken with a fresh wave of sobbing and can't go on.

"Shh, shh..." Santana whispers, not quite into his ear because he's a lot taller than she is and her mouth isn't that close to his ear, but she hopes it's soothing anyway. "It's all right, baby. Just tell me what's wrong when you can."

"You're filling me up with so many babies!"

"Yeah," Santana practically sighs. She knows Sam will probably only have one baby, she knows that the whole thing about multiple spirit babies in another realm or whatever is just a superstition, or at best like a metaphor or something. Or at least, she knew that before today. But right now? It totally feels like they're making hundreds of babies together. Literally, not just metaphorically. The idea just makes her heart swell so much that... But wait. "Why does that make you want to cry?"

"Because you hate me! You're filling me up with babies that will never have a father!"

"I don't hate you, baby!"

"You do."

"Okay, we haven't been great friends. But that was before. Now you're going to have my baby—lots of my babies—and I will love them and I will take care of them. And you. I promise, Sam, I promise."

Sam sniffles. "For real?"

"Of course." Santana kisses his back and strokes his side. "We're mated now. That's like the strongest bond two people can have. No one can tear us apart now."

"Yeah, if they tried right now it would hurt really bad."

Santana gathers this is an attempt at a joke, and she laughs a little. " _Does_ it still hurt?"

"Yeah," Sam says. "But not as bad as trying to get away did. So I guess I just have to take it."

"Does it feel good at all? Maybe if you could come again..."

"It doesn't feel good enough that I think I'll come from it. And I can't reach my dick like this, so..."

"If I turn us onto our sides you won't try to escape again?"

"No, I learned that lesson the hard way."

Somewhat awkwardly, the two manage to reposition themselves on their sides, Santana fucking Sam while spooning him. Sam reaches for his dick, but Santana nudges his hand out of the way with her own. "Let me, baby. Let me show you I can take care of you."

Sam is initially surprised by how good Santana is at jerking him. He shouldn't be—obviously she probably has had a lot of practice on herself—but he just keeps thinking how she hasn't really been with guys before, as far as he knows. Just Brittany. 

He doesn't want to think about Brittany now. How good _her_ hand always felt on his dick—and how he'll never feel that again. How he'll never give her babies like he always wanted to. At least Santana won't either...probably. She'll keep her promise to him, won't she? At least for a while. Mating bonds have been known to wear off, but not right away usually. And by the time Santana might be likely to stray, Brittany will already have a mate. Right?

Anyway, Sam has to trust that Santana really will take care of him, because what other choice does he have?

It helps that she's cooing softly to him, even though he's not really sure what she's saying. It helps even more that her cock is starting to feel more good than painful inside him again. Maybe it's because she's released so much cum that it's not as huge anymore, and there's lots and lots of lubrication. Maybe it's because she's expertly working his cock and balls and soon has him hard again. Whatever. He doesn't want to think about any of it right now.

Santana strokes him slowly, listening intently to his breathing and moaning. She wants him to feel good, but not too good too soon—if he comes again too fast, like before she herself is done, she's afraid he'll just be oversensitive and maybe even freak out again. Luckily it seems to be working—Sam's whimpering sounds mostly content—and she can really let herself feel the immense satisfaction of knocking him up with "lots and lots" of babies. It really is the best feeling in the world. She's never felt anything close to the bliss that's consuming her now...even when she realizes she's not coming anymore, she's emptied all the cum from her knot inside her mate. She jerks Sam faster and whispers, "Come for me now, baby," and he does—so obediently! he's going to be such a good mate!—and the extra squeeze around her spent cock is a little uncomfortable, but so worth it knowing she made it good for Sam too. She really does want to take care of him in every way.

Sam's cry as he spills his sterile cum all over Santana's fist is weak—just as his whole body feels. He just wants to stay curled up with her on the floor forever; in fact, he doesn't think it's possible for him to stand. But eventually she tells him he has to, and so he does, even though his legs wobble. 

"I'm taking you home," Santana informs him, helping him back into his clothes.

Sam nods gratefully. He knows she'll stay with him and fuck him repeatedly until his heat is over in a few days. But she'll take care of him too, and it's all he wants.

Everyone they pass in the hallway gives them a wide berth. It's as if everyone knows. They probably do, Sam realizes when he remembers they were interrupted. His face flushes at the realization, but just a little. He's too exhausted to really care that much. And anyway, like Santana said before, when he swells up with her baby, everyone's going to know he's her bitch.

Only one person doesn't move aside for them. Brittany. She takes their hands—both of them, where they have them clasped together—and smiles at them sadly.

"Brittany, I..."

"Don't be sorry," Brittany says. "I told you people find the mate they're supposed to have." She kisses Santana on the cheek, and then Sam, and then she walks to class alone. As soon as she's out of sight Santana leads Sam to her car.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a second part in mind, but I'm not sure if I'll get around to writing it. If anyone's interested, let me know.


End file.
